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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23959315">Adventures of a Mer-Chaser: Encounter in the Ratway</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyScrolls/pseuds/DirtyScrolls'>DirtyScrolls</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dark Brotherhood (Elder Scrolls) - Freeform, Fantastic Racism, M/M, Morag Tong, Murder, Non-Consensual Groping, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape, Stripping, Thieves Guild (Elder Scrolls) - Freeform, Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:41:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,116</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23959315</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyScrolls/pseuds/DirtyScrolls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dragonborn checks up on Ravyn Imyan after an interesting night.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Male Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Teldryn Sero, Male Dragonborn/ Ravyn Imyan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Adventures of a Mer-Chaser: The Dragonborn and Ravyn Imyan</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Adventures of a Mer-Chaser: Encounter in the Ratway</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kordin basked, taking in the sight of Teldryn Sero. The mercenary was breathing deeply, on his side, his even features majestic and serene. Only his lower half was covered by the blanket. In the lantern light coming through the windows of Honeyside, his patron could see and trace the bruises he had left that afternoon on his broad back and chest. They’d bloomed like flowers in the intervening time, dark purple on soft grey. He lingered over his mercenary’s sleeping body for awhile, remembering the sounds he had heard from the man just hours before, the way Sero had taunted him into hitting him harder, the way he had spread his muscular legs on the bed and begged until Kordin filled him up.</p><p>But he had something of a meeting with an Altmer merchant scheduled, so the Listener could not admire Sero for long. </p><p>The instructions given described the target only as “tall” and “young”. The Night Mother was so often vague. </p><p>Hopefully, Kordin had said to Nazir and Babette, there would be only one mer in the crowded Bee and Barb fitting that description. Nazir had shrugged and suggested he kill both if there were two; it was better than botching a contract. They badly needed contracts.</p><p>With one last thirsty glance at Sero, Kordin hoisted himself off the bed and began to put on his armor. </p><p> </p><p>Until the target went to his room, Kordin sat at one of the back tables, drinking mead and attempting to flirt with that shy Bosmer man who worked for the Black-Briars. </p><p>The job was almost too easy. It left him filled with nervous energy, edgy. The Altmer’s throat parted like water under his dagger, the blood bubbling almost silently out onto Keerava’s clean linen.  The target was very attractive, in that noble Altmer way, smooth except for a scar twisting down the side of his cheek. He was built like he would have been able to handle himself, had Kordin not crept up on him in his sleep. </p><p>Afterwards, he sat back down in his previous spot and finished his mead. Kordin was proud of the good time he’d made; he must have been upstairs all of five minutes. The efficient Talen-Jei had not even gotten around to clearing away the half-empty bottle.  </p><p>The sweet strong liquid did little to calm him. He was on the brink of full arousal, both from the memory of Sero’s ecstatic stretching under the strap, and from the intimate, silent slaughter of the Altmer. </p><p>The evening was young. He could always wake Sero and experience his charms again. But he knew there was another man he had to see first.</p><p> </p><p>Kordin came quietly into the Cistern. Cynric stood at the cookfire talking with Rune, Sapphire concentrated at the alchemy table, and several others sat by the water, their laughter occasionally echoing off the high ceiling. Others lay stretched on their beds, trying to sleep amid the raucous voices.</p><p>Then he saw what he had come to see. </p><p>Ravyn Imyan was by the archery targets. Notching an arrow, letting it fly, almost hitting dead center. </p><p>He was dressed neatly in his leather Guild armor, hair slicked in the way Kordin disliked but Imyan probably thought of as dashing. (Elves tended to use too much of the apothecary shop on their hair, in Kordin’s opinion.) </p><p>Next to him, speaking with an earnest expression, was Niruin, the arrogant nimble Bosmer with the striking eyes. As the Guildmaster watched them, Niruin moved closer to Imyan and the two conferred. The Bosmer placed his hands lightly on Imyan’s shoulders, helping him to position himself as he got his next arrow ready. This one hit the mark dead on.</p><p>Kordin was not sure whether to be jealous (the self-important Bosmer had dared to touch something he thought of as his own) or excited (images of the two mer together flitted through his mind, the lean limbs entangled, the contrast of golden-brown and silken grey). </p><p>He watched as Niruin took his turn, getting the bull’s-eye twice in a row, and turning to say something to Imyan with a triumphant smile on his face. Imyan laughed, which made his sharp features look younger, less cynical, even more arresting than usual. Imyan patted Niruin on the arm as if to congratulate. </p><p>Much as Kordin hated to interrupt the two, so clearly enjoying each other’s company, he strode straight over to them. He smiled almost kindly at a startled Imyan, and addressed Niruin.</p><p>“You’ll have to excuse us. Ravyn and I have important business.”</p><p>Niruin nodded. Probably, somewhere inside, he knew that Kordin did not approve of him. But he kept out of the way, did his jobs, and did not seem to notice the other kinds of looks Kordin gave him, the ones laden with hostile desire. </p><p>Ravyn Imyan didn’t say anything, though his brow furrowed. He hung up his bow and followed his Guildmaster out of the Cistern, through the half-empty tavern, and into the tunnels of the Ratway.</p><p> </p><p>“Told you I’d see you when I got back from Windhelm, didn’t I?” Kordin whispered into Imyan’s ear, already full of fervor for the dangerous mer.  He dragged his fingers roughly through the oiled hair, deliberately mussing it. Then he worked eager hands up under the Dunmer’s armor to feel his firm, warm flesh. “Told you I’d come for you.”</p><p>Kordin kissed him full on the mouth, wondering if he’d taste Bosmer. Imyan’s lips parted a little. Kordin snaked his tongue over Imyan’s teeth and along the roof of his mouth, pulled back, bit and sucked.</p><p>“Practicing a little with the Wood Elf, were you?”</p><p>“I have to keep my skills up.”</p><p>“You’re very serious. I like that, you know.”</p><p>Imyan only made a soft grunt in reply. It was all he had time to do, because the Listener kissed him again, hard and hot, as he began to undo the ex-Morag Tong agent’s armor.</p><p>“I had a job tonight,” Kordin said, stopping to breathe, “Not a Guild job. I was thinking of you when the blood gushed out of his throat. A nice Altmer. Wish I could have taken my time.” </p><p>Imyan looked down at where the Listener’s busy hands met his skin. </p><p>Kordin went on, “He didn’t even get a chance to move. I always like a little struggle, didn’t you?”</p><p>“I don’t know.” Imyan gasped as Kordin began kissing his neck wetly, the sound of the Nord’s suckling redoubling in the damp tunnel. “I was always too quick.”</p><p>“Of course you were.” Kordin said softly. He bit a cord of his neck, making him cry out, then returned his mouth to the beautiful ear. “I like you, Imyan, ‘enemy’ or no. You can’t help but brag--” Kordin undid the last clasp on the ex-assassin’s cuirass, which fell open. “--even in your current situation.”</p><p>He ran his hands over his chest and pinched one of his nipples. The pain of that sudden pinch seemed to galvanize Imyan. He groaned loudly, writhed against the stone wall, his body curling up toward Kordin’s. Kordin pressed him close and began kissing his lush lips again, holding his pointed chin in one hand.</p><p>“Can’t tell whether you liked that or hated it,” he smirked.</p><p>The shock of the second pinch would have sent Imyan doubling over if Kordin had not held him. The Dunmer’s half-clothed body moving against his made him shiver. It was a reminder that Imyan was exactly his type, wiry and strong. Kordin could have eaten him.</p><p>“We need to get those pants off you before I go mad,” he said, pinning Imyan to the wall, giving him another brief kiss. He looked into the wide slanted crimson eyes, cupped his jaw. “Are you going to keep cooperating?”</p><p>“Don’t have a choice, do I?” Imyan said, breathing hard from the lingering pain, looking down at the dagger in Kordin’s belt. It was the same Daedric weapon he had threatened him with during their last “tryst”.</p><p>“Everything I said last time still stands,” Kordin agreed, nodding. “You attack me, remember we’re still near enough for the Flagon to hear it, and they’ll take my side over yours. So you won’t be doing that. Or should I say you won’t be doing it again? That kick you gave me last time hurt for days. You’re damn lucky I decided not to slit your throat.”</p><p>Imyan’s lip began to quirk up before he caught himself, and the half-smile disappeared.</p><p>“You won’t attack me again, I said. Because I won’t be so lenient today.”</p><p>“No. I won’t.”</p><p>“Good boy. Now. You do everything I say, or you don’t leave this tunnel alive, and I make your corpse my plaything for the night. Then I tell the others you attacked me, and your good name is destroyed. If you decide to run, the Brotherhood will find you, and that’s a promise. And I’ll make you my plaything as long as I like. Understood?”</p><p>“Understood.”</p><p>“Good.” He ran a finger along Imyan’s arched eyebrows, cupped his face, kissed each of his delicate eyelids. “Let’s get this armor off you.”</p><p>Kordin stepped back and watched Imyan, his head down, shrug off the cuirass and put it aside on the stone floor. His lean bare chest rose and fell quickly with his (otherwise well-contained) fear and apprehension. Kordin came in close again to unbuckle Imyan’s pants. </p><p>Reaching past his loincloth, he softly manipulated his flaccid prick, skillfully stirring it to partial hardness. If there was one thing he knew well, it was how to make a man’s body respond in spite of his mind. </p><p>When he looked at him, Imyan’s sculpted cheekbones were edged with bright red. Kordin only smiled.</p><p>“Go on and take the rest of it off. Everything. I want you naked to your toes.”</p><p>He stood by with his hand on the dagger hilt as his prey knelt to undo each of his boots in turn. Imyan made an unintelligible sound, put his boots by his cuirass. He stood again, gracefully stepped barefoot out of his pants, and undid his loincloth. His incipient erection was shrinking under Kordin’s hungry gaze as he looked the Dunmer’s exposed body up and down, drinking in every gorgeous grey inch. </p><p>As he had the first time he fucked the ex-assassin, he felt deeply fortunate.</p><p>“Down on your knees,” Kordin ordered, placing a hand on the elf’s shoulder. </p><p>Imyan sank to a kneeling position, his glimmering red eyes lowered. Kordin unsheathed the dagger and showed it to Imyan, as if that were necessary. </p><p>“Any teeth, and I’ll cut off one of your pretty ears for a trophy.”</p><p>He heard him let out a long breath, then Imyan was reaching for the buckle of the Nord’s belt and undoing it, actions which provoked sudden laughter from Kordin.</p><p>“And here I thought you were such an innocent I was going to have to do that myself. No, no, keep going, my love. Sithis. You’re just perfect.”</p><p>As his thick erection slipped between Imyan’s shapely lips, the Listener took hold of the mer’s oiled black hair in his free hand, the other still holding the dagger.  He slid his prick down along Imyan’s velvety tongue and into his tight throat. Imyan didn’t gag or protest. </p><p>Kordin pictured him, before the Red Year, splattered in dried blood, doing exactly this for one of his old guildmates—another toothsome Dunmer assassin who sighed and gripped Imyan’s bloody hair. </p><p>The image made him greedy. </p><p>Using the slick hair as a handle, he moved in and out of Imyan’s offered mouth, picking up speed. The surprisingly clever lips and tongue worked to pleasure him. Perhaps Imyan thought that if he performed well enough, the Nord would be satisfied with his mouth only. </p><p>“I’m still going to tear your ass open, you know,” Kordin promised, “Wonderful as this is.”</p><p>Imyan’s eyes widened but he continued to take Kordin’s prick in and out of his tightened mouth, teasing the head with his obviously experienced tongue. He felt himself trickling pre-ejaculate down the back of the elf’s throat, so he pulled out of his mouth with a pop.</p><p>“You’ve got me all hot and ready. Your mouth is sweet. And talented. Said you were a virgin last time I had you. I think you lied to me.” </p><p>Imyan kept his eyes down, pressed his spittle-covered mouth into a thin line.</p><p>“Why’d you do a thing like that?”</p><p>Imyan didn’t answer. Kordin tapped him on the cheek with the tip of his cock. </p><p>“Why did you lie, Ravyn?”</p><p>“I suppose I thought it would make you leave me alone,” Imyan answered quietly.</p><p>The Listener didn’t much care about the lie, really, but he took the opportunity to put Imyan in his place,  slapping the grey-skin’s face with an open palm. The feel of his hand connecting with smooth skin and high cheekbone was like nothing else. Imyan’s head rocked to the side, his messy hair falling in his face. Scarlet blossomed on his cheek where he had been hit.</p><p>Imyan swallowed with a click, not looking at Kordin.</p><p>“That was foolish. Don’t lie to me again. Otherwise, you’ll learn how good I am with a lash. Now get up.”</p><p>The elf stood, his shoulders squared, face flushed, blood-red eyes focused off to the side. His cock was entirely soft now, something Kordin hoped to change, whether the pretty Dunmer liked it or not. </p><p>“Turn and put your hands on the wall.”</p><p>Imyan did it. Kordin stroked both hands down his lean back.</p><p>“Beautiful. Now spread your legs and stick your ass out.”</p><p>Imyan bent forward and arched his back in to present his plump firm buttocks, parted his thighs to reveal the dark crack between. He was as stunning from behind as he had been from the front. </p><p>The Nord hooked his dagger back in its place and produced a small vial of the oil he had used on Sero earlier, coated the fingers of his left hand, and began to probe the ex-assassin’s warm depths. The other hand rested in the dip of his lower back. Imyan breathed hard, as if he were trying not to cry out. The passage clasped Kordin’s scissoring fingers like a tight silk sleeve, then sucked slickly at them as Kordin slipped them out one by one.</p><p>The Listener spread Imyan’s round cheeks and lined up his cock with the oiled hole. Without further preparation, he shoved himself inside with as much force as the tight opening would permit. Imyan lost his composure and yowled like a beaten dog. Kordin smacked his thigh.</p><p>“Quiet,” he commanded, beginning to move in and out of the mer. “You want Dirge or someone to come and see you getting fucked?”</p><p>“No—of--of course not,” Imyan answered, half-choking with the pain of the sudden deep invasion. </p><p>Kordin remembered the barkeep Ambarys Rendar biting into his hand as he’d covered his mouth just a few nights ago, how good and clean the pain had felt. He placed his right hand over Imyan’s moist mouth, while the other moved from his hip to his balls, cupping each in turn, then gently massaging the soft prick.</p><p>Imyan drooled onto his hand and his breath came in hot gusts as he was nailed again and again by Kordin’s cock. Kordin thought he could feel the leak of tears or sweat onto his hand. The Nord chewed on the sleek flesh of Imyan’s neck and shoulders in between thrusts, tasting the perspiration that lightly dampened it. He felt the vibrations of the grey-skin’s muffled cries against his hand.</p><p>With light fingers, he began to explore Imyan’s sensitive nipples, rolling them so that each one grew stiff and Imyan moaned against his hand. His body seemed startled by the touch, ass and back muscles tightening up. </p><p>Kordin buried his face in the Imyan’s neck and nibbled him as he toyed with his erect nipples. At the same time, he began to slow the rotation of his hips, taking a leisurely pace that was almost as good as pounding him.</p><p>“You like that, handsome?” he asked, after a few moments of slow thrusting, during which Imyan had been silent except for his breathing into Kordin’s palm. </p><p>Kordin reached down. The relentless stimulation of his nipples, or the slow fucking, or both, had coaxed Imyan’s cock to semi-life. The feel of the hardening flesh under his hand bolstered Kordin’s passion for his prey, and he started to increase his pace once again. As he enjoyed the delicious constriction, his free hand roamed the elf’s upper body, stroking slow circles around the nipples, sliding back down to grope the genitals. </p><p>It never lasted nearly long enough with Dunmer men. Though he also liked a nice compact Bosmer or a regal Altmer, Dunmer had something else about them—a certain refined roughness. And that distinctive coloring. He’d read someplace it was supposed to be a curse.</p><p>As he had the last time he’d indulged in Ravyn Imyan, he pulled out just before his orgasm. He took his hand off Imyan’s mouth as his cock slipped free. He aimed spurts of semen across the mer’s skin, this time catching his buttocks, back, and thighs. The seed shone like pearls on Imyan’s dusky flesh. </p><p>Kordin stood his shaky prey upright and held him, getting his own cuirass messed with his own ejaculate. He ran his hands over Imyan’s vulnerable body and kissed his neck and the side of his mouth. Imyan simply allowed it, defeat and exhaustion etched into his face. </p><p>“Gods, that was incredible,” Kordin breathed into his ear. “Let’s do it again real soon.”</p><p> </p><p>On his way back to the Cistern, Kordin suddenly remembered Brynjolf’s request the last time. His fellow Nord had noticed the Dunmer looking freshly fucked, asked Kordin if he thought he would be amenable to his advances. Now Kordin made a note to himself to arrange things next time he was alone with Imyan. Kordin would, of course, insist on watching them. His redheaded Guildmate was very attractive, for a human, and, besides, he’d be jealous otherwise, thinking of another’s hands and lips on Imyan, another’s prick in him. It seemed--unfortunately for Imyan--that Kordin was growing more captivated by the new recruit each time he saw him.</p><p> </p><p>With the half-moon lighting his way, Kordin walked back into his house and went upstairs to find Sero asleep on his back, despite the welts and bruises. Tired and mellow from his time with Ravyn Imyan, he decided not to wake Sero till morning. Instead he undressed and settled in, watching his hireling’s deep sleep as he planned what he would do to him tomorrow.</p>
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